Memento Vivere
by Romantically Distant
Summary: "Her dark eyes watched with a dulled interest as her victim pleaded through choked gasps for her to stop. She was definitely still bitter." Always Pure Drabbles.
1. Gratitude

_**Hello! This is something I am writing to try and get back into the muse of AP. I am still working on the story, but as I get into my upper division Uni classes my free time becomes limited. I am also struggling with writing Chapter 15 for the story and am currently just writing various scenes for the story and just seeing if I can piece any together or get a concrete idea for it. Pair that with family drama and life has been a bit hectic. However I felt really compelled to write today and figured maybe I could write an outtakes story for AP. So here it is! This will be comprised of an outtake of various peoples perspective, particularly those who haven't played a heavy role in AP. I started off with Bill mostly because I think he provides a bit of light heartedness that AP needs.**_

 _ **For those in the States, Happy thanksgiving my lovelies! This is your little treat. The usual disclaimer still applies: The characters and canon situations in this story belong solely to JK Rowling and any company affiliated with her. If needed any other item belonging to another will be copyrighted at the end of the chapter. The plot however is solely mine. This is unbeta-ed so any mistakes are mine and I apologize for them.**_

 _ **I would also like to state that this will be updated with no schedule at all. It is a whenever the muse strikes really.**_

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 _Gratitude_

* * *

There were a number of things Bill Weasley was thankful for. His family, his friends, and a few moments in his life where he realized that he did not have to fade into the back ground; moments where he learned that he did not have to be just a number to be counted by the professors or the Ministry of Magic. He could do something with his life, be someone important.

It did not start out that way. Growing up in a poor family with younger siblings made William Weasley grow up far faster than most of his peers; juggling hammy down clothes, house chores, and teasing peers made him realize just how harsh the real world was—how much his parents tried to shelter him from. But those very lessons his parents tried to shelter him from hit him anyway. Through those he managed to overcome obstacles and cherish the moments, good or bad.

* * *

 _ **Family is Important**_ _._

He grew up poor. As he grew older he began to understand what it really meant to be poor—the judgement, the inability to afford basic things any other family afforded with ease. In the beginning he felt jealous of those families, the ones who seemed to have all that they wanted.

It just did not seem fair that those people could get what they want but then not even appreciate it as the days grew to months. Instead their attention got enraptured by a new toy, a new game, or whatever ever else caught their fickle interest. Yet his family struggled despite always trying to do the good thing and yet they never seem to prosper from it. How is that fair? The good suffer but the greedy prosper?

How many times did his younger brother have to ask for a new toy and be denied because they couldn't afford it? Yet kids from the rich families, the non-blood traitor families, can just throw a tantrum and the latest model is in their grubby hands by the evening. It felt wrong, unfair even that his family couldn't even afford _one_ new toy, no matter how good they were. He'd even be willing to share it with Charlie.

Yet it didn't happen, at least not until he meant a kind face years later. But looking back that's okay. He learned from that experience. Struggling meant living. The pain that comes from a struggle allows for lessons to be learned—perseverance, Faith, humility, and valuing what one already has.

He might not have ever received the newest toy, but he had a family who loved him. A family that ensured he had food in his belly and clothes on his back. He at least has memories of his parents sitting in the living room, telling him stories, or even teaching him a few cooking recipes.

Memories he doubted any of those snobby pureblood children could boast about having—after all most of them grew up with Mammy elves. He had a family that loved him and at the end of the day they were worth the struggles, the hammy down clothes, and the refurbished toys from generations back.

* * *

 _ **Life is a cruel and fickle witch**_.

Bill knew from first had experience that children were honest, cruelly so even. They had no filter, no reason to mince words or to even be kind. He had grown up ridiculed most of his life for being poor. And it hurt, so much that one day he finally had enough. He wanted everything to just stop—stop the mean words, the poorness, just stop it all. Yet he couldn't do that, so he ran. Ran and ran and ran; until his legs were sore and he eventually stumbled upon a woman just a few years older than he.

That day he came to the conclusion that life in general just sucked. If a pretty witch had reason to cry then good things just couldn't exist for nobodies like him. Yet he felt compelled to do something, to stop the pretty witch's tears. So he asked her not to cry.

That led to a conversation, and a new friend, that stuck with him for the rest of his life—people were rude, that will never change. But sometimes a life altering event, no matter how small, occurs and what was once black and white became vivid color. And the color changes something—not for the mean people, but for the person. Things become clearer; life suddenly has a purpose even if it might be unclear to as exactly what that purpose is. Bill felt grateful for that conversation because it taught him a lesson in strangers.

Sometimes it just takes a stranger to throw some paint in ones face for colors to seep in to view.

Sometimes it just takes a stranger to realize how wonderful it is to be alive today, even if today is just simply an awful one.

Sometimes it just takes a stranger to realize even a simple nobody is important.

* * *

 _ **What being Courageous really means**_.

"You're Bambi's friend," He remembers saying to the dark haired boy that he often sees hanging out with his lovely friend. Bill did not care too much for the older wizard, mostly because he felt like the other bloke monopolized all of Bambi's time. But Bill knew better than to be selfish with Bambi—she had to work her magic on others just like she did to him; didn't mean he liked it any.

The older bloke didn't say anything, he just looked at him. It unnerved Bill, the constant stare; it felt like the older wizard considered him unimportant to even respond to. Of course the notion was immediately tossed out because Hermione would _never_ associate with someone who considered others unimportant, but the silence still unnerved the young Gryffindor in its uneasiness.

"Yah know, I think I could use a piece of cake, wanna come 'own to the kitchens with me?" Bill remembered asking, mostly to just diffuse the silence. But that simple statement resulted in the older wizard falling to his knees, and sobbing.

To this day the oldest Weasley does not know what made the older bloke cry in front of a stranger, but he did not even bother to think twice about providing the other wizard comfort. Something in Bill told the young boy that he needed to do this—he needed to give this other man solace, a reason to overcome whatever struggle that Bambi's friend currently faced.

And as silver eyes dried and hardened, Bill saw a man of resolve. And the Gryffindor knew that whatever struggle the older wizard might be facing, he had reached a conclusion, a way to solve it.

That day he saw yet another silent hero.

That day he learned that real superheroes didn't wear capes.

That day he discovered that anyone can turn into a superhero.

* * *

Bill Weasley has a lot of things to be thankful for; from family to important events. He learned that struggles make the person and that is better to appreciate what one has instead of always looking at the shiny but brittle new toy. Throughout the struggles, Bill grew to respect his family and what they have done for him. He loved them all the more for it.

The young wizard remembered how much he need those kind words at that time in his life and how they impacted his life even years later; even more surprising to him at the time, how freely the stranger had given them. So Bill tries to be that stranger for others, the one so freely giving out words of encouragement and kindness.

The Gryffindor remembers how a young man cried out his frustration and burdens in front of him; how showing that one weakness in front of him allowed for a man to solidify his resolve to an obviously bleak situation. Bill learned that sometimes just showing kindness, even in a small and childish way, it can help give a person the gentle nudge that they needed. The wizard learned that silence can speak volumes, and real superheroes are made from struggles. This means that they can break and that sometimes they need to be reminded of why they fight. But most of all they needed to be reminded that they are mortals and it is okay for them to be afraid.

He tries to teach these lessons to his siblings because they are important. But these lessons are not something that can be taught.

These are lessons that need to be lived.

And he's just grateful that he has.

* * *

 **Now this is supposed to be short, just small outtakes. If you haven't read AP then you might not necessary understand the references like 'Bambi' and 'World of Colors'. Feel free to read it, if not you really don't have to understand the message of this story. I named this fic Memento Vivere which means _'Remember to Live'._ Most of these outtakes will be about life in some way or another.**

 **Tell me what you think please! Those looking for AP updates, help me get my muse back by reviewing what you might want to see-either on here or in the Always Pure.**


	2. Bitterness

**_This is a glimpse of inside Bellatrix's mind and a perhaps even a reason as to why she turned out the way she did._**

 ** _Want to see another Character? Another emotion perhaps? Review and let me know!_**

 ** _The usual disclaimer still applies: The characters and canon situations in this story belong solely to JK Rowling and any company affiliated with her. If needed any other item belonging to another will be copyrighted at the end of the chapter. The plot however is solely mine. This is unbeta-ed so any mistakes are mine and I apologize for them._**

* * *

 _Bitterness_

* * *

She did not grow up acting like this or even feeling this hatred, Bellatrix thought as she crucio-ed yet another muggle. Her dark eyes watched with a dulled interest as her victim pleaded through choked gasps for her to stop. Begging never worked on her, she had learned to have no mercy from the tender age of five. If one could not handle the pain then they should be removed from the playing field—only the strong needed to be on this battlefield. Somewhere between her childhood and adulthood, her compassion flitted away entirely.

At one point in time, Bellatrix use to have a heart, a compassionate one. But as she grew up her heart turned bitter; unable to keep up with all the betrayals. She grew tired of being the strong one; the one to go to when the parents were too harsh, when friends were too cruel, when the stress of being perfect just got to be too much. She would coo her comforting words, rocking whoever—usually Andy or Cissa—needed it until their sobs faded away.

She had been the protector for as long as she could remember; causing trouble in front of her parents to save Cissa from admitting to breaking a family vase or Andy from voicing her outspoken thoughts. She had always been the one to provide the distractions, to take the hexes for the sheer reason that she was the older sister. And because she was the older sister, Bellatrix needed to protect her siblings, even from their own parents. When Andy and Cissa were old enough, she would be their shield from the horrors of the world; the lying friends who wanted the prestige of being 'friends' with a Black, the family who would play a game of chess with its own members—needlessly sacrificing if the case needed—and all of the bits in between.

She had been the one to cry _to_ , never the one to cry.

And perhaps that was where the mistake laid; she never shed a tear, at least not since her sisters were born. How could she when she had to be their example? Of course apparently being a good example did not work very well, Bellatrix thought idly; glaring at the muggle who no longer begged for the pain to end, but instead to just be dead. Andy went off and married one of the blasted spawns—after all Bella tried to do to keep her from it. Her younger, cherished sister turned her back on the family, on Bella for a muggleborn boy more timid than a bloody mouse. No explanations. No apologies. Nothing.

Bellatrix did not understand it. How could someone ever leave their family, their flesh and blood for some stranger they _think_ they love? Did she not realize how much her family loved her? How much her sisters would miss her? It didn't matter now because it was in the past and could never be changed. Bellatrix withstood hexes, curses, and hours of pain trying to protect her sister from the harsh world they lived in, the family they were born into, and the expectations that were thrusted upon them.

And Andy did not even bother to leave her a bloody note. Some people might suggest that Bellatrix held some bitterness over that small act from years ago.

Looking at the muggle she currently tortured and seeing them barely moving—just the occasional twitching of a finger—and not even begging anymore, Bellatrix silently agreed as she sent an _Avada Kedavra_ at the motionless body.

Definitely still bitter.

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 **Tell me what you think please! Those looking for AP updates, help me get my muse back by reviewing what you might want to see-either on here or in the Always Pure.**

 **Like I said earlier, want to see another character or another emotion? Review and let me know. I'm trying to regain my muse for AP and more ideas. Life has been hectic and I'm trying to find some peace throughout all the mess, so updates might be sporadic but something is better than nothing right? Having these short, random chapters to make are a lot less stressful than 5K chapters for AP.**


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